


Pyriform Silk

by Depths



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Developing Friendships, Fluff and Angst, Haphephobia, Human/Monster Society, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overstimulation, Roommates, Slow Burn, Social Anxiety, Social Issues, The non sexy kind, Trust Issues, Vampires, Were-Creatures, Werewolves, they didnt have powers before but they sure do now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:21:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25990516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Depths/pseuds/Depths
Summary: Akaashi had enough trouble just trying toexistas an empath. Going to university and needing a place to stay was just another hurdle.At least the roommate offer he found online wasn't made by humans. He would far rather live with whatever flavor of supernatural his two new roommates were going to be than risk trying to live with a human.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 65
Kudos: 172





	1. Modern Myths, Now Hiring

In retrospect, high school had been the easy route. Puberty was awful in general but that went for everyone. Having little to no friends wasn’t an issue. He didn’t want them anyway. Higher level classes and a dismissive, cool personality had come with the reprieve of being fairly isolated. No one to bother him, no one who  _ wanted _ to bother him. 

Safety in being a wallflower. Pride in being a wallflower. 

Graduating had almost been easy. He had even been allowed to wear gloves when crossing the stage. College was going to be even less confined, spread out. A sprawling campus with a mess of different people doing different things. Many of which were on the move and had control over things not contained to college. Other places they could be, that weren’t on campus; that weren’t near him. 

But the biggest advantage high school would always have over college… was that it was less than fifteen minutes from his house.

College definitely did not fit that criteria; and Keiji didn’t, in all honesty, want to move out. 

“I can find somewhere closer,” he murmured, scanning his screen. If he scrolled far enough, searched a little longer, surely he’d come up with other more suitable options. Something. Anything. “The colleges in our area will still have the classes I want. You know it won’t matter where I do as long as I have a degree at all to find work.” 

His mother quietly watched him, her hand tight on the door frame. “Keiji,” she said, “the university offered a full ride scholarship. They’re the best in Japan for literature.” He squeezed his eyes shut but it did nothing to stop her. “I know it’s... not ideal. I know. But this is one of those times that maybe the risk is worth it.” 

_ How could you say that? _ Keiji wanted to ask.  _ After all these years, telling me to be careful. Telling me not to get too close. How could you? _

A hand in his hair. The secondhand murmur of lip gnawing pressure and dim-lit sparks became a flood of concern and hope. Beneath the cold weight of anxiety was excitement and happiness glittering like sparklers in the night. Keiji could just make out a flashing image of shaking hands and a tearstained diploma before she drew back. 

“I just don’t want you to have any regrets,” she murmured. “Being Adjacent shouldn’t mean forcing yourself to not take the opportunities you have open to you. I know you’re scared, but as long as you’re as careful as you’ve always been, it’s going to be okay.  _ You’re _ going to be okay.” 

Keiji turned away. It did nothing in the face of his mother. She stepped forward and quickly wrapped her arms around his shoulders. The touch burned as it always did, unfamiliar heat imprinting on his skin. But The tide of love and affection, soft and comforting like sunlight and hot food in his stomach made him shiver pleasantly. He couldn’t help sinking into it. Just for a moment. 

Her lips pressed into his hair. “You’re going to go to your top university,” she said firmly, “you’re going to get your free ride, and have fun, and it is going to be  _ worth it.” _

Just as quickly, it was over. Connections snapping like fingers through cobwebs. Keiji was still all too aware of how her hands pressed into his shoulders, palms burning through even the fabric of his shirt. “Okay?” She asked. Despite her previous conviction, her eyes searched his out. Waiting. If he truly thought he couldn’t do it–– despite it all, she would listen. 

She always had. Who else would know him so inside and out, empath or not, as his own mother? 

Keiji swallowed. 

Adjacents weren’t criminals. They weren’t monsters. It wasn't as if it were illegal to exist– just that existing was uncomfrtable for everyone involved. They were normal people, like himself, like his mother. Normal people who still needed to get jobs and eat food and breathe air. Normal people who couldn’t afford to avoid everyone because of harmful stereotypes and stigma, because of overstimulation. Normal people like Keiji, who had plenty of the practice needed in pretending to be perfectly normal. 

Society didn’t make a place for them over half the time. It was up to them to carve one out until it would. 

“Okay,” he managed, and the enduring warmth and fluttering light-headedness radiating from his mother felt like being swallowed by the sun. 

* * *

If he had to move out, the best-case scenario would just be other Adjacents. It wouldn’t be hard to adjust to whatever flavor of not-human they were— telepathic, telekinetic, empath, mimic— whatever.  _ Whatever. _ It didn’t matter that privacy would be impossible. Keiji had plenty of practice just by living with his mother. 

The concept of being understood, of being safe in his own home, would be worth the loss of privacy in whatever form it took. 

It was an idealistic idea and Keiji did not hold out hope for it. No adjacent was naive enough to advertise their status like that. 

Keiji forcibly loosened his jaw. He continued to scroll through apartment and roommate offers. 

The majority were unsurprisingly posted by humans. He swiped through them without even glancing. Living with a human would be bound to end badly. In close quarters, likely for months if not years? Akaashi was good, but no one was perfect— and humans had a much harder time adjusting the way Adjacents and Supers could. Keiji understood that there was a delicate balance between accepting others without being threatened by them, but humans toed that line with all the grandeur and fragility of a glass castle. They seized power where they could, in the face of a lack of supernatural ability. 

Keiji had heard too many horror stories of Adjacents found out by their human peers. Of legal consequences for invasion of privacy. Of threats and blackmail and the stagnating, suffocating knowledge of constant distrust and wariness. There was no  _ hiding _ from an Adjacent. It wasn’t a blessing. More often than not, empathy was a hindrance. Especially to those like himself and his mother. The stronger the powers, the harder to control–– Keiji would have given more than he was comfortable thinking about to be able to just leave his own home without emotional overstimulation. 

At least they were no longer legally required to give their status. It was a mild comfort. 

_ Human, human, human. Two hedge witches; women only. Human. Griffin; on a ranch too far from campus.  _

_ Human.  _

_ Human.  _

_ Human.  _

_ Huma _ n. 

Several too far. Lots in bad areas. Keiji spent several minutes in between wanting to bang his head against the table to consider even the listing from what looked to be an entire nest of crow shapeshifters, and even an offer made by a human with another dryad roommate. Purely out of desperation. Endlessly scrolling through offer after offer made him feel like he was going to start bleeding through his ears. 

_ Human. Human. Nekomata; but by the wrong university. Human. Human. Human. Two supers; male—  _

Keiji stopped scrolling, squinting uselessly at the horrible amalgamation of color that was the listing. 

_ “Become our third roommate!” _ Was typed in a massive and multicolored font.  _ “Decent sized living space. Available kitchen, shared fridge with a working freezer, a stove, and an oven. You get your own room with a window. Mattress and bed frame provided. Both of us are second year uni students and supers. Rent is negotiable, money or blood money. Technically get a free pet dog if you call now!!” _

Keiji traced the numbers underneath with a finger, blinking quickly. It was a stupid looking listing. Childish and unprofessional. If it hadn’t been typed Keiji half expected the listing to have been written in crayon. Probably just two jocks trying to better split rent costs. While in an apartment, which was another strike. Frankly, the phrase “technically get a free dog” alone was vague and concerning. Did they actually have a dog, or did they steal one? Maybe it was one of those cases where they adopted a coyote or fox, mistaking it for a dog…? Keiji didn’t even want to consider what was meant by “blood money”. 

...However.  _ However. _ It was within decent walking distance of his university. There was a cafe and a convenience store down the block. They were supers.  _ Both _ of them. 

It wasn’t other Adjacents. It wasn’t his best case scenario. 

Keiji knew better than to push his luck. He picked up his phone, eyes tracing the number offered.


	2. A werewolf, a vampire, and an empath walk into a bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the punchline is a panic attack.

_ Lone person next door. Feels calm, if cold. Probably quiet. Three people the room before that-- bright as sparklers and just as loud. Two to the right of the listing, I can feel the boiling and pressure through the door. I hope the walls aren’t thin if they're partners, that must be a lot of unresolved sexual tension.  _

Keiji squeezed his fingers together, forcing his hands still. 

_ No high hopes. No high hopes.  _

It was in his best interest to gauge the people living around the apartment listed. It was something smart. Something he needed to know if he was going to live there. It didn't mean he had already said yes. It didn't mean he had already sold his soul and moved in. Apartments were sketchy enough without being able to feel the emotions of the people in rooms nearby. 

Just a precaution. In his best interest. He finally moved to knock. 

The door swung open before he could do more than touch the door–– swinging almost violently open. “Hey, hey, hey! You’re here!” 

Massive golden eyes filled all of Keiji’s view, huge and bright and blinding. Keiji blinked rapidly, frozen in place. He could barely see the other. Not with the sudden emotional influx of something akin to a supernova going off right in front of him. He couldn’t even hope to step back. 

It didn't seem like the other recognized Keiji’s shock. Gold flickered away. “Kuroo! Kuroo, he’s here– you didn't say he was so pretty!” He turned away, his focus redirecting for a moment, and Keiji breathed in desperately in the lapse of that barrage of energy. His lungs felt tight, every muscle in his body coiled tight and on edge. It took several sharp gasps before his heart stopped feeling like it would pop out of his throat. He hadn’t struggled so much to reel in his empathy since he was a child. What the hell was-- 

“So, you gonna… hey, you alright?” 

The sunlight flickered out. Turning, in almost an instant, cold and churning and  _ heavy _ . Hands pushed into the edge of Keiji’s vision. Too fast. Too big, too bright. Too much, and he didn't have time to move away–  _ he could barely handle standing in front of this guy. If he seriously touched him right now– _

The hands snapped away as quickly as they came, and Keiji nearly threw up out of relief. His head was spinning. He could barely hear beyond the ringing in his ears. Bright lights and shadows swam in his vision, swaying in and out of sight. Were things happening around him? What was going on? He could barely breathe. 

“–ck up, bro, I think you startled him a little– no, you didn't do anything, just lemme handle it. Hey. Hey! You alright?” Keiji twitched as something pale waved in front of his face, a reflexive flinch back that went nowhere. The something slowed until it was still in front of him. Five pale somethings, flexing open and closed-- “Can you hear me? Bo went to grab you some water, if you want a drink.” 

_ Hand. That's… it’s a hand. _ Keiji blinked, slowly pulling things back into place around him. His own emotions sequestered away into their familiar little spaces in his head. With the Star further back into the apartment, it was easier to parse between what was His and what wasn't, easier to push all of it out.  _ That’s a hand, and it’s not trying to touch me. _

The world went back to being muffled around his ears. 

“Oh, you look a little better. Hey there, ready to say hi?” 

Keiji craned his head back a little to meet the man’s eyes. 

A lone person, in the room to the left; undisturbed waters, still and silent. Three down the hall, still sparkling quietly like fireworks behind the treeline. Two people totally focused on each other in the space to the right. One star, glowing a little more dimly somewhere behind the shadow in front of him. 

Keiji straightened. “I apologize, that was rude of me. My name is Akaashi Keiji, I was the one to inquire about the room offer.” 

_ I fucked up before I could even introduce myself. I suppose being rejected now, before I could get invested, would be better for the long run. I’m sure I saw other listings I could contact. They're probably still open, too, I’ll just pull the page back up once I get home–– _

The man smiled at him, fangs flashing in the low light. Keiji couldn't detect any of the sharp steel or coiling pressure that meant he was in danger though. If anything, he radiated the same twisting chill as the Star, mixed with the same cool shadowy calm of deep water. 

As Keiji waited, the smirk became something a little more genuine. “Right. Well, I’m Kuroo Tetsurou. The puppy back there is Bokuto Koutarou– do you want to come in and talk or do you have something to do right now? We’re not too busy this week, so it’s fine if you want to reschedule or something.” 

It didn’t… sound mocking. Nor did it sound like a refusal-- a reschedule wasn’t something Keiji expected to hear. The offer to come in, to discuss the listing even after he basically had a breakdown in their doorway? For taking  _ one look _ at Bokuto? 

_ Kuroo-san feels okay. He’s pretty muted, compared to Bokuto-san– but that's not going to be enough of a buffer if I lived with them. I should just cut my losses. I was right to think I couldn't do this. Kuroo already gave me an out, I could easily just say I have an appointment…  _

Gold eyes peered around Kuroo’s mess of a hairstyle, wide and–– watery? Keiji froze to see him so close. He waited for the tide to suck him back in but was left blinking in what felt more like waves lapping at his feet than a current trying to drown him. Granted, he had a pretty tight grip on his empathy after the initial shock, but no one that intense could just… tone themself down. Keiji had only ever met other empaths (namely his mother. Just his mother. They didn't really know much of anyone, actually, considering…) that were able to control their emotional output. 

Bokuto peered up at him, meek as a scolded pup. “Do you want some water?” He whispered. Keiji glanced down as something crept over Kuroo’s shoulder and blinked at the sight of a glass of water. Bokuto’s beefy arms looked awkward, balancing on Kuroo, and the glass looked dainty in his broad hands. 

Keiji just as carefully reached out to take it, shuddering a little at the resulting bonfire of heat that just as quickly quieted into flickers and sparks, wondered at the possibility of emotions having an “inside voice”. “Thank you,” he said. He paused and swallowed quickly to erase the tiny bit of roughness clinging to his voice. “...And yes, I have some free time now, if that's alright with you.” 

Milk and honey, the cool relief of water down a parched throat. Keiji felt the churning bite of nerves gentle into a calmer current. With emotions so unbelievably soft and friendly, it was easy to dismiss the constant background buzz of being watched. 

Kuroo moved back, and Keiji willingly stepped forward. 

Adjacents were normal people. Just as normal as any human, or werewolf, or vampire. Just another person trying to finish college and make a living. Keiji couldn't just continue to cripple himself because he was too scared to be close to people, or they were too scared to get close to him. 

Isolation was safe and easy, and stagnant. 

If two strangers could make an effort to make him comfortable, so could he give them a chance. 

“I’m sorry again if I made you uncomfortable,” Keiji couldn’t help but say again. “I was–– a bit overwhelmed for a moment. I’m not very good with people. It won’t happen again, of course, but––”

Kuroo waved him off immediately, shaking his head. “No, no, dude, it’s fine. You don’t have to explain yourself. Even if it happens again, we’ve got some friends who aren’t great with social stuff either, we won’t call the cops or something. Right Bo?” 

If the mention was meant to perk Bokuto back up, it worked. Keiji’s breath hitched as his energy fizzled and sparked awake. “Of course not,” He crowed, “We would never, ‘Kaashi!” 

“It’s Akaashi,” Keiji murmured, reeling. Nothing in Bokuto’s emotions indicated he registered his words at all. He seemed abruptly stagnant, toes at the edge of a waterfall. “Um, thank you though. I appreciate the sentiment.” 

Bokuto beamed. Kiji diligently set his eyes forward and tried not to even wonder whether it would be rude to imagine a tail wagging. “Anyway,” He managed, “I wasn’t lying that I had some time. If you’re still willing, I would like to see the space a little.” 

From what he could see of the entryway alone, it was a decently well-kept place. None of the stained walls and banged up furniture he had expected from an apartment frequented by two male student supers. There were definite scratch marks in the floorboards–– some of them worrying deep. But when Kuroo and Bokuto walked forward, the werewolf’s claws were surprisingly delicate clicking against the wood. It was a clearly practiced, careful walk, even as he trotted ahead excitedly to shove open a door.  _ I guess I don’t have to worry about that too much, then. _

As if he didn't have thousands of other reasons to worry. Keiji averted his eyes away even as he knew it wouldn't help.

"We can start here then, I guess," Kuroo was saying. "This is the main room, which is where we spend most of our time? The kitchen connects directly to the living room, through that little thing there--" He gestured vaguely at the wall separating where the kitchen must be from where they stood. If Keiji leaned to the side enough, he could make out a pan of–– something–– left out on the stovetop. 

He had no idea what was in it. It looked burnt. Bokuto fidgeted when he squinted at it.

"Shared kitchen, right?" Keiji asked. If he remembered correctly, that was what the offer had said... "Do you two tend to label what's yours? Or eat together?" It would likely be leagues easier if they didn't. The pressure to eat together every meal... then again, they probably didn't have matching schedules to be able to eat together. Even if they were human. College just didn't always allow for complementing hours. "Would that apply towards how we would split groceries and their costs?"

Bokuto blinked at him, looking beyond blank. Keiji paused.  _ Did I say something wrong? Too straight forward? Maybe I shouldn't have asked. Maybe they're just humoring me, and don't plan to let me stay after all and I'm asking too much, and–– _

Kuroo laughed, affectionately petting Bokuto's head. "I handle most of the costs," He admitted. "Both dealing with what needs to be bought and how much we spend, since Bo isn't great with money. He's in charge of going out to buy them, though, since most supermarkets and deals are only available during daylight. Especially in the summer. You can either split with me or him, or mix it maybe? We honestly haven't thought that far ahead yet."

Bright eyes. Pins and needles. But there was warmth under the buzzing– something like a cat at your feet or a butterfly on your nose. Reaching to touch but falling short, just to keep the moment from vanishing.

Keiji couldn't place it. He did his best to just ignore it entirely and hoped Kuroo would stop feeling it.

Kuroo watched him, none the wiser. "If you still plan to take us up on our offer," He said, "we could maybe meet again and talk about it further? This doesn't have to be immediate. Actually, we'd rather it wasn't-- best to know each other a li'l before living together, right?"

Keiji blinked, alternating his stare from Kuroo to Bokuto. The feeling hadn't faded. In the newfound silence, it only seemed to intensify–– Bokuto's rising, fluttering, reaching feeling mixing into Kuroo's to make something thick on Keiji’s tongue. 

Both of them continued to watch him. Keiji’s palms were starting to sweat.

"Of–– Of course," He said haltingly. "That would... probably be best, yes. I agree."

Sunlight through the clouds, warmth on cold hands and light through the leaves. Spice and electricity arched over the roof of Keiji’s mouth. Stomach fluttering, head light, Keiji wondered why they felt so kindly about seeing him a second time.

"That's great!" Bokuto crowed. If he had a tail, Keiji was  _ certain _ it would be wagging. He was starting to feel a little cheated that Bokuto wasn’t a half-shifter. Was that thought rude? Well, whatever, it wasn’t as if Bokuto was an Adjacent. "Ooh, you can come over again, or we can go out–– I can cook!"

"You're not going to cook," Kuroo cut in quickly.

"...Kuroo can cook!"

"Sounds great," Keiji managed.

Summer air in his lungs and running water under his feet. Sparks between his teeth. Warmth in his palms.

Keiji breathed out slowly, fighting to push back Kuroo and Bokuto's emotions from his own again, and for a moment expected steam to leave his mouth. 

_ This is getting to be too much. _

Pins and needles, pins and needles–– Bokuto waved wildly, making Keiji twitch. "Come on, come on," He chanted, "I wanna show you which room you're gonna have!"

"Might have. We're not done with the main room either, but I guess we can––"

"Kuroo!" Bokuto whirled on the vampire, eyes huge. "Don't tell me you're gonna say  _ no _ ! Just look at him!"

_ What is there to look at. _ Keiji managed to contain himself enough to just blink. Bokuto's sudden and violent rush of freezing heat had frozen him in his tracks.  _ He really turns on a dime. Is he always like that? " _ Um."

Kuroo raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Don't look at me, I'm not saying no! He hasn't confirmed if he wants it!"

A burst of electricity down his throat, seizing and tight. Keiji almost choked as his chest constricted painfully.  _ "Akashi!" _ Bokuto cried out, turning back to him. "You're gonna stay right?!"

"Bo, don't push him!"

Bright gold, huge and seeming to glow in broad daylight. Warm palms turned searing hot, stones in his throat and arms too short to grab–– "I hope you stay," Bokuto said, and the pure honesty in those words rang so vibrant and loud that it almost brought Keiji to his knees. He didn't know their emotional signatures anywhere well enough to recognize what they felt, to put definite names to their emotions–– but this one alone was so strong it was no more unmistakable than a blow to the head.

_ How is fucking anyone that loudly genuine? _

Keiji’s head was spinning.

"I'll think about it," He choked out. "Can you show me the room, Bokuto-san?" A moment. "Also, it's Akaashi."

The full force of the sun in his face made him squint even when he tried not to. Neither of them seemed to notice, thankfully. " _ Yes _ !" Bokuto cheered and darted down the hall. "Come on, it's the one next to Kuroo's– you'd be across from me, it's right here!"

Keiji didn't move right away, trying to catch his breath. Bokuto ducking into "his" room definitely helped– the extra distance, even small, gave him that slightest bit more room to separate himself from him.

"He's a lot, isn't he."

Keiji jumped. Kuroo was still right beside him, hands on his hips. The pins and needles remained but the vampire was only smiling. Despite the watchfulness, the smile seemed genuine enough. "He's rather intense," He finally admitted. "No offense."

Kuroo only seemed amused by his answer. "None taken. He is intense. You'll get used to it, I guess. If you stay."

He tensed, worried it'd be a pressuring confrontation despite Kuroo's earlier insistence not to–– but Kuroo only walked off after Bokuto, talking over his shoulder. "Anyway, come on! You wanna see the room, don't you?"

"Of course," Keiji said, and only paused for a moment when he realized he meant it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so its been nearly a month lol my bad! the next three chapters are all done and just need to be edited. Stay tuned.


	3. Support and Consent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi heistates to make any choices, Bokuto and Kuroo get very excited, and Akaashi's mother is the coolest person ever.

His mother was a quiet person. They both were. Had to be, Keiji supposed, with what they were and how they lived. Although, maybe if he was louder, more colorful, he wouldn’t feel so  _ waterlogged. _

(Volleyball used to be a good place to vent. The smack of the ball against the floorboards. The sting of his palms. The absolute focus that demanded all his attention. That had been his safe haven. The court was his second home.)

(At least it was until he grew into his blood.)

He could feel her stare even as neither of them spoke. She watched him from the doorway, posture relaxed and patient. Keiji refused to let it fool him. He was only used to her eyes enough to stop his skin from crawling. 

But only just. 

“I’m going to be fine,” he intoned emotionlessly. “From what I’ve seen, they’re both good people, if a little excitable.” No adjacent worked like how humans or even most supers imagined they did. Telepathy, Empathy… they weren’t some sort of window straight to the soul. Keiji couldn’t uncover what sort of people Kuroo or Bokuto were with a glance. If that were the truth maybe he wouldn’t have been raised to be quiet. Maybe it would be less of a struggle just to interact with people. “I can handle this. You’re the one who wanted me to move out in the first place.” 

Her worry seeped into him. Lax shoulders and steady hands did nothing to hide the trembling chill dripping off her and spilling across the floor. It soaked into everything she touched and left Keiji’s room tasting of salt. “Only because I knew your commute would be hell otherwise,” she countered. “I know you’re as capable and careful as a college student can be, Keiji...  _ but. _ If anything does happen— and I trust in your abilities to handle most anything, but you know how it is, sometimes things are simply unavoidable— know that I will never refuse to let you come home, okay?” Knuckles white, eyes sharp. Keiji remembered again, with razor clarity, why his father was gone.  _ “Never.  _ For any reason. If you think you need it, I won’t ask. You come straight home, okay? We can always figure something else out.” 

It wasn’t a question. Keiji nodded slowly and watched his mother’s sharpness soften until she felt like pudding, wobbly and warm. “I will,” he promised. “If I honestly think I cannot stay there, I’ll come home.” 

His commute would end up doubled, both in time and in inconvenience. Switching trains, less sleep before classes, more time spent on public transit or walking... 

But even an extra hour or two walking could still be preferable to living with two people–– even if they were supers–– who would not accept him. Whether for his status or not. The loss of sleep, the forced interaction… it would be the same whether he stayed home or not, if they decided to hate him. 

He could always come home. That was more than some people had. 

His mother’s eyes buzzed where they settled on his skin. Finally, she pushed away from his door frame and turned to retreat back down the hall. “Okay. Just reminding you. I’m making dinner soon, come help in ten, okay?” 

Her footsteps faded, chill carried with her, and Keiji felt his phone buzz against his thigh. 

He knew who it was without looking. Ever since their first meeting, his future maybe-roommates had been halfway to spamming him with pictures of anything and everything. Cats Kuroo passed by, good restaurants near the apartment, meals they made that looked surprisingly good. Every little picture followed up with a little teasing incentive. 

Keiji never replied to any of them. He did at first–– it would have been rude not to–– but after a while he had learned the incessant texts didn’t really require an answer. They were sent whether he replied or not. He did still reply to the messages asking to meet up to try the restaurants; even if he did decide not to room with them, the food looked good. Keiji would never consider going to a restaurant without at least one person he could anchor to, but he kept note of all of them anyway. 

His phone chimed again in his hand. Keiji looked down, indulging his own curiosity only to choke. The picture of Bokuto’s back muscles strained and glistened with sweat. His face was tilted away from camera, golden eyes narrowed in concentration. Keiji barely managed to register the following commentary of  _ i promised a free dog in the ad right? ;) he works out almost daily~ _

All at once Keiji’s entire face felt like it was melting.  _ Are you trying to get help paying rent by getting a roommate or by propositioning Bokuto-san as a sex worker,  _ he texted back a little too quickly, fingers tight on his phone.  _ I am getting confused about what our contract entails. _

His only answer was a mildly concerning winking emoji and an even more disconcerting  _ I guess you’ll just have to find out when you come over to sign it _ . 

Keiji delicately placed his phone face down back on his thigh and tried not to scream into his hands. 

The flash of warm amusement down the hall didn’t help. 

* * *

The cafe Kuroo chose was nice. Quiet, calm, warm yellow-green walls and honeyed wooden tables. Close enough to the apartment to walk to in under ten minutes. Fairly cheap. Warm and inviting. Nothing but warmth and lingering calm echoed from under Keiji’s fingertips. A new environment. A neutral environment. No one sat at the tables surrounding them, giving them a nice little bubble of space. Even the cashier was sleepy and calm, what little of their emotions that reached him muffled and quiet. 

Keiji forcibly slid his gaze back to Kuroo and off of his surroundings.

The other didn’t seem to notice his distraction. “... shared kitchen and main rooms, of course. You’ll get your own bedroom, though, the one with the pretty big window on the wall facing the street. I showed you it before, right?” 

Keiji nodded briskly. 

“Okay, good. So if you choose to take it up, that one’ll be yours— Bokuto’s is the one across the hall, and I’m next to you. Yours is the only one that currently has a lock, so feel free to use it. We won’t mind. Regardless what Bo thinks about privacy and personal space, he’s stupid and  _ literally _ half dog so I’m the official authority on it in no man’s land.” 

Would a lock even  _ do _ anything against two supers? Keiji didn’t bother asking, instead occupying his eyes with scanning the paper in his hands over again. He was fairly certain he hadn’t missed anything. “Sounds fine,” he replied noncommittally. “Are there any other papers you’ll need?” 

“Nah, this should be fine. The actual landlord will just tell us if we forgot anything, and he’s pretty chill as long as we pay the rent on time. You got a pen?” 

Keiji instantly plucked the ballpoint he had stuffed into his pocket out, clicking it absently. “Of course. Signing right here, right?” 

“Yeah. Here and here too. And the date, can’t forget that.” He sat back, watching quietly as Keiji leaned over the paper, pen nib hovering over the provided dotted lines pointed out to him. 

“So.” Kuroo took a long sip from his mug, eyes intent on Keiji over the rim. He could feel them burning into his face, hot on his cheeks. “Human, or human adjacent?” 

The pen in Keiji’s hands slipped and ruined the document in front of him. 

“Ah. Sorry.” Not even a single shake in his hands when he pushed the form aside. Not a second of hesitation to meet Kuroo’s eyes. “I’m kind of clumsy. Do you have a copy?” 

The silence was rigid and stale, the man across from him stared heavily. 

Kuroo smiled easily. the corners of his eyes lifted with it, instantly making the air feel a little lighter. Keiji absorbed the unchanging focus, the weight of being  _ watched _ even without the eyes directly on him, and swallowed it like a stone in his stomach. “Of course! I know the feeling, Bokuto is constantly breaking stuff around here— I hope that won’t be a problem, by the way. Keep all your delicate fragile somewhere his beefy, beautiful biceps can’t smack into, you know?” He winked as he pulled a fresh form seemingly out of thin air. 

Keiji carefully set the pen back down before reaching out. He watched Kuroo’s eyes follow his hands, distracted for a moment by the way long fingers grazed his— 

_ Intrigue, curiosity, amusement. A brief image of golden eyes and larger hands, the phantom sensation of rough palms and... _ Keiji blinked.  _ A volleyball? Was that a volleyball? _

Kuroo let go of the paper and Keiji quickly grabbed it before it could fall. The connection snapped as easily as dew dripping off a leaf. “Hey, do you play volleyball?” Kuroo asked. “You’ve got all the calluses of a setter.” 

_ Ah _ . 

Despite himself, Keiji’s shoulders just barely loosened. It made reaching for his pen a much smoother motion. “I was,” he admitted, “I played back in high school. It’s been a while. How did you know?”  _ Volleyball is a safe topic. An easy, familiar topic. Even if it has been a while. _ Keiji quickly tapped his pen to the paper, signature neat and smooth as it always was. 

“My best friend was a setter, too. He hated the labor, but he’s still got the same hands you do.” 

“I see.” The form slid back across the table. Kuroo smoothly plucked it up and tucked it into a little folder. “And yes, I am a human.” 

_ Human enough.  _

Keiji didn’t need to touch Kuroo this time to be sure the other didn’t fully believe him. 

“Alright,” he said easily. “I hope it won’t cause complications since neither Bo nor I are human. It’s all in the contract, naturally, and I doubt you didn’t read it— I saw your eyes catch on that part.” Keiji fought not to roll his eyes. Even if he had somehow missed the disclaimer, it wasn’t as if he would have been  _ surprised _ that Kuroo wasn’t human. The brief meetings they had had already, the other man had flashed his fangs and hissed into his ear before flirting with him. Bokuto had  _ sniffed _ him. Every bit of furniture (including the  _ paint,  _ it was stuck in the _ paint––) _ was covered in dense fur despite no pet ever being in sight. The contact (now signed and slid out of sight. Keiji didn’t miss how it was practically hidden in Kuroo’s clothes once he had signatured it. The whole situation felt remarkably as if he had signed his soul away) had a whole explicit clause about silver and full moons. 

If they had honestly been attempting to be secretive, Keiji wouldn’t bother to hide at all. Stupid at that caliber meant every personal matter he had, including ones that weren’t even secret, would never be figured out. 

Keiji met Kuroo’s eyes steadily, taking a long drink from his cooling coffee. “It won’t be a problem,” he promised. 

Living with two supernaturals just meant he as a human-adjacent would be even better hidden by default. 

Kuroo nodded, smiling at him. For the first time, nothing twisted beneath it. Instead, something bright and vibrant buzzed through him like a static shock. “Great! Then, we’ll see you later today? Or sometime this week— whenever you’re ready to get your stuff over. We’ve already got the room cleaned up and shit if you want to just move in now.”

“Ah,” Keiji blinked, leaning back. It didn’t loosen the emotions claws in him. “I— suppose I could. Would Bokuto-san be okay with that?”  _ Would  _ I _ be okay with that? This is happening kind of fast— _

Kuroo cackled, jumping to his feet.  _ “”Okay” _ with it? Bo is excited as fuck to have you. Dude thinks you’re cool as hell, if a little quiet.” His eyes glinted, but still there was nothing churning behind them. Keiji slowly stood up and almost flinched when Kuroo made as if to grab his shoulder. His hand made a neat swerve and tucked itself into his pocket, yanking out some yen to leave on the table. “You’ll see. He should be home right now, you can just ask him yourself.” 

_ I would honestly rather die, just a little.  _

“Sounds good,” Keiji said. 

Kuroo waved when they parted ways, promising him Bokuto as free labor when he arrived. He continued to make exaggerated flexing motions, Keiji was sure, even after he had turned his back. 

Keiji just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Down the street, across the street, down the stairs, into the train. Barely anyone occupied the car he was in. Those inside didn’t spare him a glance and neither did he them. He sat down as close to the doors as possible. 

Even with his hands carefully folded away from the seats, the exhaustion of the hundreds of riders who had all sat where he did now bled up through his clothes. He watched as his hands turned white and rigid curling into his knees. Focused on the sting, on the pressure and pain of his nails biting through fabric. Anything instead of the lingering stress practically choking the car.

It didn’t really work, but he managed to stumble off in one piece. 

His own home was a comfort tenfold just to look at. The ache of tired relief, imprinted to the door knob alone, could have floored him. 

“I’m back,” he managed. The door shut behind him. Familiar wood under his feet. Familiar walls under his fingertips. Every little touch coaxed up old imprints, the relief of coming home and the security of his own, isolated walls— Keiji breathed in deeply and tried not to let his voice hitch. “I’m home.” 

The weight in his stomach seeped into every part of him. Cold and heavy and waterlogged. Keiji tore his hand from the wall when it started to stay there too. 

His mom poked her head out of the living room. “Keiji,” she greeted, “how did it go?” 

Heavy limbed, heart hammering, and a gut full of butterflies. Or maybe moths. Keiji felt that would fit a little better. “Good,” he answered. 

She walked over and opened her arms. 

He immediately collapsed into them. 

Warmth, warmth, warmth. Sparking hot with a mother’s protection, like stepping on coals and not being burnt. Like oven mitts and worn blankets and the solid reassurance of a place to hide. “I’m scared,” he said uselessly.  _ “Terrified. _ How could I— how am I supposed to do this?” Her arms tightened around him and he squeezed his eyes shut as images flashed through his mind, of walls and picture frames and shared tables that felt familiar-so-familiar but were not  _ his.  _ Were never his, and yet they radiated a sense of belonging, of rightness— “I agreed. I signed the contract. They asked me to move in tonight.” 

Deep breathes, failing breathes. Keiji buried his nose in his mother’s hair and tried to burrow into her effortless safety. “They’re so  _ much _ ,” he whispered. He didn’t know what else to say. The words were there, bubbling like magma boiling over, like a bomb shaking though it’s last seconds, and yet they hit the lump in his throat and never made it out.  _ “Everything _ is so much.” 

A hand swept his hair back. “It is what it is,” she murmured, “do you think it’ll be worth it?” 

A car, packed and full. Locked doors and warm blankets. Keiji’s room as it was, with his few trinkets and books and clothes on the floor. Keiji huffed out an almost laugh and pressed his face that much closer into his mother’s shoulder. “You don’t need to show me,” he murmured, “I know.”  _ I’ve always known.  _

Where everything failed him, there was his mother. 

He was no longer a child, but she remained endlessly mindful. It was part of being adjacent to be conscientious— sometimes painfully so. 

Keiji loosened his shoulders, breathing out slowly. 

She wasn’t the only one who had done something like that for him, was she. Not recently. 

(If two strangers could make an effort...)

Keiji swallowed. “It might be worth it,” he murmured. “I... they seem like good people.”

His mother pulled back, searching his face carefully. “If anyone would know,  _ it would be you.  _ If you believe these people are genuine I have nothing but trust that they are.” Something churned under the surface, ebbing and dark like an undertow teaching to yank him under.  “But know that I’m right here if you change your mind. If they do anything that makes you change your mind. Remember that people whose feelings are pure can still have hands that do terrible things. That even if they hurt you, in their mind they might feel justified–– and to you, that will feel kind."

Her hands were tight on his shoulders. Fingers twisted into his shirt, shaking and stiff. But her eyes remained steadfast. "If you can't tell the difference," She said, slow and serious, "Then I will do my best to tell it for you. You will not be alone even if you don't live with me, okay?"

It felt too serious. Keiji had barely decided whether this was the place–– or the people–– he would risk living around for any period of time. Out of range of his mother's emotional signature, and the familiar territory of their imprint soaked home...

Under all the convenience and basic necessity of moving out, of growing up, of pretending and performing and–– they were both scared.

"I'll be careful." Keiji managed. It didn't matter where he ended and she began. It didn't matter. They were just one big connected mass of fear that never seemed to go away. Exhaustion that never lessened. Ease that was short and bittersweet. But he had to try. "As careful as possible."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time since I updated this story and I have no excuse lmfao!!! I'll try to schedule myself a bit more. 
> 
> Also side note i had So much trouble trying to decide what to call people like kuroo and Bo-- it used to be "monsters", but since this is a mixed casual society for monsters and people monster would be too negative? But "mythical" sounded weird, and "fable" even weirder, so now theyre called Supers. godbless nsjbhdfbnd


	4. Moving in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi moves into his new room and the first thing he does is take a nap

Keiji stared straight forward. All he could see was cardboard. If he craned his head back, he knew he’d only see more cardboard. It was a wonder he had made it up the stairs to the apartment at all. 

Maybe the older lady who had opened the door for him at the front would like a nice gift basket? He’d have to ask for her apartment number, which might or might not be creepy. Maybe it would be better if he just walked through every floor until he recognized her signature again. 

Maybe later. Just a couple more steps and he could put everything down and maybe think more on it. He could practically taste the imprints of Bokuto and Kuroo’s signatures under his feet, their repeated pathways muddying the apartment hall with fast-paced buzzing in his gut and soothing honey in his throat. 

They were strong enough, worn enough, that Keiji barely stopped himself before he walked into the door. The door that he couldn’t see. The door he had no hands to open. 

His new key was a mocking weight in his pocket. 

_ Damn it.  _

Keiji stepped back from the door. It wasn’t a wide hall, but if he were careful he could manage to set down everything in his arms without dropping (or  _ breaking) _ anything… “Hopefully,” He murmured. “I should have really thought this––” 

A muffled thump and a bang. Frenzied skittering sounds like nails scraping rapidly across a desk. 

Keiji nearly flung all the boxes in his hands anyway when the door flung open, Bokuto’s thick haze of excitement slamming into him like a flash flood. His legs wobbled under the force of it. 

“You! It’s you!” Bokuto yelled. 

He didn’t have to see to imagine the other’s expression. Keiji didn’t bother wasting effort trying to poke his head around the boxes in his arms. There was no forgetting anyone that managed to sweat pure manic adrenaline all the time the way Bokuto could. “Good afternoon, Bokuto-San,” he greeted. “Would you mind opening the door to my room for me?” 

“Don’t worry! I’ll take care of it for you!” Keiji’s only warning was rapid footsteps before Bokuto was pulling the boxes out of his arms. His claws carefully nudged Akaashi aside without even nicking him. Hands grazed, fleeting and warm, over Keiji’s long fingers. 

If the door opening was a flood, this was a hurricane.  _ Excitement. _ So much of it. It tore him straight off his feet. Pure and bright; bright like staring into the sun. Bright like plunging cold hands into hot water. Bright like swallowing firecrackers whole and feeling them burst in your belly— 

Keiji came to with a gasp. He threw himself back against the wall, but Bokuto was already padding off down the hallway. 

_ Did he— really not notice? _ Keiji stared after him. Moving further away, further into the warmth-saturated apartment, it was hard to pick up on anything beyond Bokuto’s lingering excitement or his own panic. Even that seemed to be slowly swallowed into the honeyed atmosphere. 

Even if Bokuto was somehow an incredible actor, to fake the peppy reaction, no amount of acting should have been able to fool Keiji’s senses. 

Just like no amount of Keiji’s acting should have been able to fool Bokuto's senses. 

“Akaashi! Where do you want me to put this?” 

_ I need to be more careful.  _

He swallowed hard and started walking. 

Bokuto perked up as soon as he peeked through the doorway, head flying up from where he had already opened one of Keiji’s few boxes. “Akaashi!” He yipped. Keiji only blinked at him. His brain was still trying to parse through the emotional overload from before. Walking right back into Bokuto’s sphere of  _ existing _ felt like wading through electric currents and honey. “How many of these are just books?!” 

“Not that many,” He defended. It was too easy to imprint on a physical book. At least electronic copies were cheaper and easier to acquire now— second-hand stores were a nightmare and a half. All those lingering emotions, laid all over every little thing like permanent fingerprints... “Bokuto-San, please do not go through other people’s things without permission.” 

The werewolf  _ leered _ at him.  _ “Akaashi,” _ he sang quietly, “do you have  _ sex toys _ in here? I won’t tell Kuroo, I promise—“ 

Teasing. He was just teasing. Bokuto's emotions rolled off him like little butterflies, tickling Keiji’s sides and nudging playfully. He felt heat rise to his cheeks anyway. 

Keiji firmly gestured to the door.  _ “Out.” _

He did it cackling, but Bokuto surprisingly didn’t fight him on it. The werewolf zoomed out of the room as fast as he had come in, leaving the door swinging on its hinges behind him. There were new claw marks on the floor, and silver fur on Keiji’s new bed. 

Somewhere further in the apartment, Kuroo yelped and something crashed. 

Keiji shut his door without checking. 

The click of the door falling into place brought a new silence. Quiet Keiji realized he hadn’t had since he left his parent’s house— quiet he got even as he could faintly hear Bokuto running through the apartment, Kuroo’s threatening calls muffled and somehow sounding much farther than they were. 

He sat on the bed. Little bits of squirrely-twisting warmth bled up through his palms, like fireflies in his stomach. Keiji looked down to see Bokuto's fur sticking to his skin. It was surprisingly soft. In the contained stillness of his new room, they prickled like sparks under his touch. 

Keiji took a deep breath. He stared at his new ceiling. 

The warmth disappeared when he pulled his hands into his lap, absentmindedly tugging his fingers clean of fur. Such a minor shedding of emotion, and yet he felt it as strongly as if the sun had flickered out. Like the world erased itself out from under him. 

His new room was... clean. Empty of imprints. 

Not a trace of lingering  _ anything _ . None of Kuroo’s teasing playfulness, or watchful awareness. None of Bokuto's exuberance. Just Keiji, alone in a room. 

Something tight loosened in his chest. For the first time since he had first begun searching through apartment listings, Keiji felt his heart slow and settle. 

Everything else could wait. Unpacking could wait. Socializing could wait. Checking out his classes and getting to know his roommates could wait. Keiji refused to waste the first taste of peace he had gotten in weeks. In maybe  _ months. _ He loved his mother, but her worry and stress seeped into the walls of the house like rot. 

He laid down, soaking in that void of Other until he fell asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a very short chapter, bc this scene ended very firmly and the whole original chapter was like 5k. ill edit and post the next chapter a bit sooner to make up for it dw


	5. Good Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> akaashi's first morning with the boys is harder than he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aka Akaashi needs to have a serious talk about boundaries. and then he doesnt.

Keiji woke up to knocking on his door.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty." It took him a moment, still blinking up at the ceiling, to recognize the voice as Kuroo's. "I know you're awake, I can hear your heart rate picking up. Can I come in?"

_ What... time is it...? _ Keiji flopped onto his side, blindly patting for his phone. "I thought vampires only needed to be invited into the house, not a room," He mumbled. His hand nudged the edge of his phone.  _ Oh, there it is. _ The light was far too bright to stare at right away, making him groan.  _ I hate mornings. _ "It's not even ten..."

The door swung open, filling his room with even more light from the hallway. Keiji groaned even louder and dropped his phone to shield his eyes. When he finally managed to glare at Kuroo, the other was just leaning against his door frame, smirking down at him. Keiji wondered if it was a vampiric trait that made him not flinch because Keiji was fairly certain he was glaring hard enough to disintegrate a human. "Just being polite," He said smoothly, "Besides, Bokuto will be home from his run soon, and I doubt you want to be woken by him instead, and he  _ will _ wake you even if he’s not trying to."

Keiji laid there for a moment. Kuroo thankfully just waited patiently for the millisecond it took Keiji to process that, yes, he definitely did  _ not _ want to be woken up by someone like Bokuto.

Kuroo only looked on smugly as Keiji swung his legs over the side of his bed. Once he was situated the vampire turned on his heel, heading back towards the main rooms. "I thought so. I'll be out for a bit to pick up some mail, just text if you need help unpacking and I'll give you a hand when I'm back." He left without letting Keiji reply, the door clicking faintly shut behind him.

Keiji stared from the open door to the sparse boxes still unopened on his floor.

_ Of course. Because I would need help. Help only a strong, independent vampire could give me.  _

...Had he lost that much muscle mass? Sure, it had been a couple of years since he was forced to give up volleyball, but Keiji wasn’t weak. “My roommates are idiots, mother,” Keiji muttered to himself. “Shakespearean background characters. And I live with them.” 

Sitting alone on his new bed, his new bed that he hadn’t even unpacked blankets for yet and still sitting in the clothes he wore the day before, Keiji let out the first quiet laugh he had made in weeks. 

_ Good location, my own room, and I’ll never, apparently, be bored again.  _

Keiji stood up and dug into the first box to his right to find a change of clothes. Regardless of how tired he still was, good impressions made good roommates. Hopefully, Bokuto and Kuroo would be fine with him using what was in the kitchen until he could go out grocery shopping himself. 

Actually, he was living with two assumed bachelors now. Who were both college students, on top of being supernaturals. Maybe he would have a miracle moment where his assumption would be stereotype instead of reality, but Keiji hoped he found something usable in the kitchen at all. 

Could Kuroo even  _ eat _ regular food? Surely yes, or he would have mentioned it when they went over shared assets— he had taken care to mention Bokuto's werewolf enhanced appetite, after all. He had even asked if Keiji had any allergies or other food limitations, to ensure they could clear the apartment of it before he moved it. Someone that thorough was not someone who would coincidentally leave out whether or not he could eat human food. 

Regardless, blood was definitely going to be a big factor. Keiji shuffled into the kitchen and beelined for the fridge. 

Beer. Lots of it. A concerning amount, actually— weren’t werewolves  _ unable _ to get drunk? Keiji shoved it to the side, hoping to find anything past the copious amounts of alcohol, and found an equally massive container of eggs showered in the back. A half-eaten pack of tortillas, an almost empty jug of orange juice, some milk— Three entire packs of bacon. An entire chunk of honey glazed ham. What looked like a package of sandwich meat meant only for restaurant use, rather than in a random personal kitchen. 

Starting to sweat a little, Keiji peeked into the freezer. 

_ Who buys cheese ice cream. Who the hell buys three cartons of cheese ice cream. _ There was also a small, smashed box of ice cream sandwiches that had probably seen better days— and a frozen bag of spaghetti sauce with a scribbled date–– a date years old. 

Keiji shut the freezer. 

_ Grocery shopping. Immediately. Maybe before unpacking.  _

Did they even have  _ rice? _

He started searching the pantry and cupboards and heaved a sigh of relief to find a large container of rice, only half empty. More than enough to last a couple of days, depending on how much Kuroo’s stories about Bokuto's appetite were true. 

Another cupboard opened to reveal a secret mini-fridge. One Keiji felt weirdly comforted to realize was the place Kuroo kept his blood packs. He took one out and set it aside for later. 

By the time he had located where they put their pots and pans, Keiji felt confident enough to take out some bacon and eggs. The pan handle tingled against his palm. Little flickers of sleepy exhaustion and morning hunger dragged at him. A simple breakfast would be easiest. He didn’t want to risk raising expectations too high. Befriending his roommates would make living with them an easier experience, but making himself into a maid wouldn’t. Nor would getting too close and risking too much. A simple breakfast of bacon and eggs and maybe some rice, and a blood pack for Kuroo, and then he could go grocery shopping. 

_ Shopping, unpack. Maybe I can go check where my new classes will be, too.  _

The bacon sizzled loudly. Keiji waved a hand through the heat, glancing warily for where the smoke alarms were. He was determined not to burn anything, but his mind was admittedly elsewhere.  _ I hope they aren’t far apart. I should ask Bokuto-san or Kuroo-san to show me around if they aren’t busy— actually no. No. Absolutely not. We’re not friends. I’ll find them myself. _

Hissing, crackling. Keiji fumbled a little, rushing to figure out where exactly paper towels were stashed.  _ maybe I’ll be lucky and our schedules don’t match up at all. Best case scenario would be that they both take morning classes... then again, Kuroo-san is a vampire. I’m not sure which vampiric traits are stereotypes and which are true though; would it be offensive if I asked? _

Bacon off the pan. Keiji drained half the grease before shrugging and figuring Bokuto would probably enjoy his eggs even more if they were salted from bacon. He seemed like the type to enjoy that. It was worth finding out if Keiji ever cooked for them again. That’s what good roommates did, right? 

_ Good impressions always pay off. Even if I think they won’t. You never know when a favor or two will reward you. _ Keiji cracked three eggs directly into the pan. Thought a moment. Cracked three more.  _ I’ll add eggs to the grocery list. Basic ingredients should be split between us, I suppose. Especially if Bokuto-san can manage to eat as much as Kuroo-san warned. _

He’d likely need to buy coffee beans too. Or instant coffee. He hadn’t seen it in his quick flyby of the kitchen cupboards and wasn’t honestly enthusiastic about his chances of suddenly happening to find any at all. Which was strange, considering the dusty little machine in the corner of the kitchen was definitely a coffee machine. Maybe there were some untouched instant coffee packets there or something? Keiji eyed it suspiciously, absentmindedly pushing the eggs off onto a plate. It looked like something only pulled out for guests, but he would take his chances if it meant he could— 

Keys clicked at the front door. Keiji jerked upright, nearly dropping the plates and ruining his work as he registered the emotional signature seeping into the apartment through the door. 

Hastily setting things down, he shuffled over as it swung open to reveal Kuroo. 

The vampire grinned at him, waving the stack of mail lazily. “Hey. You look moderately awake now, princess.” He swept past Keiji into the room faster than he could even think to reply, breezing by without even grazing him. “The apartment smells good, what have you been—“

_ “Akaashi! _ You’re finally awake!” 

Were all werewolves as endlessly  _ touchy _ as Bokuto? 

Keiji twitched as a violent rush of energy slammed into him. The slightest touch of Bokuto's skin brought an absolute storm of restlessness and unrestrained excitement, and the werewolf hadn’t even actually hugged him yet. 

He stepped to the side and watched his inertia carry him right into Kuroo instead. They went down like a house of bricks. 

“You’re too fucking heavy! Where the shit have you been eating, you meathead, I’m going to  _ die!” _ Kuroo shrieked. The energy in the room had snapped apart with Bokuto's intense arrival, calm tension splintering under fireworks like stones in a lake. Keiji shook his head and retreated to the coffee machine. He wasn’t sure why Kuroo was so carefully watchful around him, but it could never hope to stand up to Bokuto's presence alone. Keiji shook his head and kept moving. Even as Kuroo yelled, pushing uselessly at Bokuto's shoulders, he was wheezing with laughter.  _ “Akaashi! _ You traitor, I know you did that on purpose!”

_ I absolutely did. Good of you to notice. _ Keiji didn’t waste time looking back. “I don’t particularly like to be touched, Kuroo-san. Bokuto-san. I believe you will find the floor very comfy for your extended stay, however.” There was a little box next to the machine, half-hidden behind it. Keiji felt a flare of victory to find instant coffee capsules inside.  _ Yes. Thank god. I was right.  _

“Wha— I can’t believe this! Bokuto, we agreed to let a—“

Only a minute or two. That was the pros of instant coffee. Cheap and quick. Keiji took a sip and sighed. Nice and dark. It was practically useless now, after the defibrillator that was Bokuto's adrenaline, but at least he could take the time to appreciate his coffee before it got cold. “When you’re ready,” he cut in, not bothering to listen to Kuroo’s offended squawk, “please note that I made breakfast for all of us. I hope there is enough eggs and bacon for Bokuto's appetite.” 

“—absolute fucking angel live with us. Radiant. Beautiful. A godsend.” 

He left the kitchen. “Thanks. Eat before it’s cold.” The noise behind him tripled in volume as Bokuto registered what he said. Keiji could vaguely register a sudden crack of something mindlessly gooey and warm radiating from the kitchen when his ears picked up Bokuto's gleeful  _ “Akaashi made us breakfast?!” _

Keiji shook his head and sat down, nibbling on his own piece of toast. Barely a minute passed before Bokuto stuffed himself into the chair next to him. He had somehow managed to balance three entire plates on his arms, each heavy with food. Heavy enough to make Keiji flinch at the noise when they hit the table far too rough for the poor porcelain. “I heard that, bro!” Kuroo shouted from the kitchen, and Bokuto whined loudly, bouncing in place. “Don’t break any more of our plates! I’m sick of buying more all the time.” 

“Akaashi made breakfast, Kuroo,” Bokuto shouted. Keiji winced. Bokuto grinned at him, eyes practically sparkling. “Sorry!” He tried to whisper. It came out more of a yell regardless, but Keiji appreciated the effort. “Thank you for making food though! You didn’t have to, you’re new here! But it looks as good as you, and wow, you must be just  _ really _ good at everything, huh!” 

He bounced in place, laughing to himself. Pure delight still wafted off him like heat off a campfire. Hell, so close it was more like a solar flare. Keiji was left frozen and staring as Bokuto tucked into his first plate, unable to help the aborted concern if he needed to put on sunscreen. 

It was... it was a lot. He carefully pressed his fingers tighter against his mug and delicately leaned away. 

Subtlety was surprisingly useless. Bokuto twitched as if he had stepped on a landmine, huge golden eyes immediately swinging his way and pinning him in place. “Mm!” He held up a hand to wait, other frantically pounding his chest as he mildly choked on his mouthful. “D-don't worry!” He finally managed. “You don’t have to be careful like that, it’s okay. We heard you! No touching.” 

Keiji blinked.  _ He heard that? _ A shadow appeared behind him and he jumped, whipping around in time to catch Kuroo leaving the kitchen. The other man only waved lazily before stepping around Keiji, standing in his direct line of sight. Keiji silently preened inwardly to see him holding the mug he had set out earlier for him. “He’s right, you know,” he said easily. “We play a lot here, but we’re not going to do something you’re uncomfortable with. This is gonna be your home too, you know?” A long swig of his mug turned his lips a dark red. 

His stomach turned weirdly, light and warm. Keiji swallowed. “...I see. Alright then.” He wasn’t exactly sure if Kuroo smiled behind his mug, but Keiji could almost taste the honey-sweet satisfaction and cool stream of relief rolling off him. 

It was broken in a moment, overlapped heavily by the quickly becoming familiar sensation of being watched. “Aren’t you going to eat?” Bokuto asked. Keiji twisted a little too fast to stare as razor-sharp needles prickled across his skin, almost smacking himself with Bokuto's outstretched hand. The werewolf just as quickly pulled back but his attention did not. “You made all this food,” he continued, “You should eat with us Akaashi! It’s really good, if that’s what you’re worrying about, see?” 

He held up his hand again and Keiji blinked as he finally registered him to be holding up a fork full of eggs. Honestly, Keiji was slightly shocked that Bokuto even had the foresight to use silverware at all. 

Neither of them moved. Keiji shifted uneasily, eyes flickering from the eggs to Bokuto's face. The eggs were fine. Keiji wasn’t a chef by any means, but he knew how to cook the basics. He doubted even he could botch eggs. 

But the werewolf was unwavering in whatever unnamed intent he had. His golden eyes remained steadfastly pinned to Keiji’s face, cataloging every little twitch and pause. It was making Keiji uncontrollably nervous. 

_ Why isn’t he— _

“He’s waiting for you to eat it, dude,” Kuroo cut in. The vampire pat Bokuto's head. Keiji wasn’t entirely sure if it was meant to be condescending or comforting, but Bokuto didn’t react regardless in any way for him to tell. “Unless you can’t eat eggs? Or just don’t want to, we don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

Would it be rude to admit they were making him uncomfortable? His palms were becoming damp. Keiji held carefully still. He folded his hands in his lap, meeting Kuroo’s eyes calmly. “I can eat eggs,” he said instead. “But I would rather not eat right now. I plan to go grocery shopping today. This is for you two.” 

Something bubbly rose in Kuroo, sweet as molasses and twice as thick. It was the same tarry, caramel feeling Keiji had gotten off him that morning when he woke him up. He squinted up at Kuroo, frowning, only to be readily eclipsed by a sudden and nauseating  _ dip _ beside him. 

The pins and needles of being watched were swallowed under the weight of heavy rain. Bokuto drooped visibly in his chair, eyes huge and molten. “Thank you for cooking Akaashi,” he whimpered, “but we wanna eat with you too! You shouldn’t have to just watch us after you cooked it all... do you not want to? It’s okay if you don’t...” he seemed to curl in on himself. One big bundle of furry sadness and rejection. It made Keiji’s insides flip. The world spun a little. 

Kuroo, still standing in front of him, was like a beacon of pins and needles and slow-moving honey. Always watching. Always waiting. 

Keiji moved without thinking, hand flailing through the air to steady himself before he fell flat on his face. 

It landed on Bokuto's shoulder. Keiji’s pinkie slid off the thick strap of his muscle tank and grazed bare skin. Instantly the emotions increased tenfold, a crushing weight slamming into Keiji’s ribs and forcing the air from his lungs. He was left swallowing bile, struggling to move through the sudden waterlogged heaviness to his limbs. Dizzy and sick, Keiji clumsily leaned forward and closed his lips around where he assumed the fork was. 

Almost instantly, the weight collapsed into butterflies. Keiji shut his eyes, hoping no one saw them roll back a little from the force of it all. His hands trembled out of control when he finally regained the strength to push away from Bokuto. 

Warmth, fireworks, sunlight. The ever-present pins and needles, sharpened and salty with the taste of cold sweat. 

Keiji tried not to sway in the lingering emotional whiplash.  _ Is this the next few months of my life? I thought I— I thought I had better control than this. _

“Good, right?!” Bokuto glowed in front of him. Lit up like a star, he seemed to swallow all of Keiji’s attention at once. It took him several seconds of blinking to try and focus on his face–– past that feeling of staring at the sun–– to process his words. “I told you it was! So you have to eat with us, okay? We're bros now! Bros before hoes, Akaashi.” 

“I wouldn’t call grocery shopping itself a hoe,” Keiji said, struggling to move his tongue to shape the words. His entire mouth felt dry and too wet at the same time, throat swollen as if he had been throwing up. A cool glass touched his hand and he took it without daring to meet Kuroo’s eyes, barely even pausing to check that it was normal water before quickly swallowing all of it. “...I still need to go grocery shopping regardless.” 

Kuroo’s knuckles knocked on the table, forcing Keiji to finally risk a glance up at him. 

The vampire's expression had a surprising lack of teasing to it, eyes narrowed and mouth in a thin line. “You can do what you want,” he said easily. Bokuto picked up another forkful of eggs from his plate, offering it to Keiji. “This is your house too, after all. But first you should eat with us. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you shouldn’t be running around on no fuel because you felt you had to be nice to us.”

Keiji pressed his lips into a firm line, eyes flickering from their faces to Bokuto's fork. 

Pins and needles, pins and needles. Sharp static filling his flesh. The longer he took to answer, the thicker the miasma became. It quickly was turning into a lump in his throat. Even his coffee twisted heavily in his stomach. 

Bokuto’s wide and expectant eyes lowered a little. Keiji swallowed roughly in efforts not to gag. 

_ They expect me to keep  _ eating _? Like this, right here and now? With them? _

Rapid-fire plans began to fill out in his mind. He would need to find quiet, safe, fairly isolated places. Maybe order more tupperware to take meals out with him, since restaurants weren’t any more an option—

Keiji managed a nod. “Thank you. I’ll... get a plate, then.” It was better to play it safe. People didn’t like it when you refused what they considered kindness, and Keiji was certain they were well-meaning. There wasn’t a lick of darkness in either of them. Kuroo watched him, but it seemed Kuroo watched everyone and everything— and there was no way to mistake the raw genuineness that made up Bokuto's entire being. He didn’t need empathy to believe the werewolf. At least, not for something like a single meal. 

_ Please don’t let this be a reoccurring theme.  _

Keiji carefully placed eggs on his plate, spreading it out to make it take more space. As pins and needles prickled at his back he added a piece of bacon and sighed in relief when the feeling faded a little. 

Bokuto had turned back to scarfing down his food by the time he returned to the table, not paying him any attention. Keiji slid back into his seat and hoped Kuroo would just do the same. 

“What are you up to after this, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

_ Goddammit. _ Keiji carefully relaxed his jaw before speaking. “I’ll need to check out campus.” Eggs. Eggs in his mouth. In his throat, in his stomach— Keiji swallowed several times and took a hopefully not desperate swig of his coffee. It didn’t help. “I'd prefer to figure out where my classes are before the semester starts.” 

Glowing heat, energy eroding his thoughts. An exposed livewire against his skin. 

Bokuto’s eyes were so, so bright. “Let us show you around!” He said, almost choking in his haste. “Come on, were both second years so we know where everything is, we can help!” He paused. “Well, I can help. It’s  _ really _ bright out right now, and Kuroo gets kinda cranky when he’s out in the sun, but I can help!” 

The less he argued, the less friction relationships had. The easier it became to dodge people. The easier it was to be alone. Keiji was an efficient, careful person. Polite and patient. 

To a fault. 

“I would like to do so alone, sorry. I focus better when I’m alone.” 

_ A half-truth is better than a lie. _ Keiji choked down another mouthful of eggs instead of risking meeting Bokuto's eyes. He was pleasantly surprised to feel the emotion ebb just as quickly. 

He looked up. Kuroo’s hand wasn’t fast enough to pull away from where it had combed Bokuto’s hair back. His casual expression did nothing to hide the warm honey-sweet swell of fondness. 

Keiji looked away. “...I’ll see you both later,” he murmured, and rose to his feet. He couldn’t take the atmosphere anymore. In such proximity, there was no escaping every little shift in their emotions. He felt like he was breathing through smoke just being in the same room. 

_ It’ll get better, _ he assured himself, walking back into the kitchen.  _ I’ll get used to them, and it won’t be such a shock when their emotions hit me.  _

The static sting of pins and needles made his hands shake when he scraped most of his breakfast into the trash. Not when he grabbed his phone. Not when he slipped his shoes on. 

_ It’ll get better.  _

His new roommates waved as Keiji fled the apartment. He didn’t manage to wave back.


	6. Make-shift picnic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo does his best to be a good friend.

_ Campus is huge.  _

Too huge. Several-days-worth-just-to-explore-it huge. Keiji was halfway to ripping his map up if he found another wing he needed to check out. 

He was too tired to be impressed. Even before the sheer size of the university was–– daunting. Overwhelming, even, and  _ full _ of people. It seemed like he wasn’t the only one with the idea to check out the campus before the semester started. Even with a map, continuously dodging people day after day was exhausting. 

Keiji dragged himself into an empty park and collapsed on the grass, unceremoniously dropping his grocery bags. Water wet his jeans. He didn’t care. The relief of being alone, the reassurance that he was confident in where things were and how he would get there...

He breathed out heavily and fell flat on his back, shivering as dew soaked through his shirt. It was getting dark out but that wasn’t a problem. The later it got, the fewer people were around. No one was within his vicinity. No one else was infringing on his mind. Just him and his  _ own _ feelings. The peace and tentative safety of it, even if temporary, was a balm. Every bit of it he could grab onto counted. 

Keiji spread his arms out. Goosebumps rose under his sleeves as damp grass grazed his bare hands. 

_ I’m hungry. _

His bags weren’t even a full foot away. At least two premade bentos were inside. Several wrapped rice balls. A couple of fruits. All things easily opened and consumed. 

Keiji didn’t move to pick them up just yet. For just a moment, he wanted to rest. Classes weren’t starting yet, surely it would be fine if he stayed out just a little longer? The campus was closing for the night, people were heading home. No one would come to a kids park in the cold and dark. No one should be looking for him. No one should even think of him. Only his mom and she was over an hour away even if he took the train...

His stomach rumbled uncomfortably. Keiji forced himself to sit up and reach for his bags before it could get worse, tearing open the first thing that touched his fingers. 

The onigiri almost fit entirely in his mouth. Keiji felt his jaw click a little cramming as much as he could in at once but he didn’t care. No one was around him. No one to see. Nothing felt better than to be invisible— just as nothing felt better than to finally eat something. 

Food, mouth. Chewing, swallowing. The weight wasn’t warm in his stomach. Greasy and cold convenience food. Wet and cold grass under his butt, under his palms. Cool night air and a silent park and no one to judge him. 

It was almost violently satisfying to rip open the next onigiri. Plastic foil crushed in his hands, rice stuck to his fingertips and the corner of his mouth. His jaw was starting to strain, aching from the excessive force. He knew it was a bad habit–– knew it was unreasonable. Paranoid speed in the inevitability of being stumbled upon by a stranger. He could sometimes barely tell if the buzz of being watched came from actually being watched or  _ assuming _ he was being watched anymore. 

Beyond that, it felt so good to be able to  _ eat. _ Away from everyone, away from any imprints. There were no rocks filling his stomach anymore. No bile in his throat, no twisting in his gut. It left him starving. 

Keiji unwrapped a third onigiri and took a massive bite. 

“So you  _ can _ eat.” 

He promptly choked. Keiji whirled around to see Kuroo standing behind him. Now that he was  _ searching, _ he could register the other’s emotional signature— serene water and crackling, static watchfulness—  _ It wasn’t my imagination. _ Keiji swallowed painfully, struggling to force the rice down his suddenly dry throat.“ How long have you been there?” He croaked out.  _ How did I not notice you? _ “How did you even  _ find _ me?”

Kuroo gestured vaguely behind him. “I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re not actually that far from the apartment.” His eyes glittered through the dark. “You’ve been gone a long time. You haven’t yet put your schedule up on the fridge with Bo and I’s, but you’ve been out for a lot of hours. Bo worries, you know?” 

It swept into him slow, but strong. An incoming current dragging at his feet. Twisting, churning. Electric buzzing pressure and lightheaded sparks. 

“Sure he does,” Keiji mumbled. “Thank you for worrying about me, but I’m fine.”

_ Please leave. Please just leave me alone.  _

Kuroo’s emotions mixed oddly in his stomach. They swirled and twisted, as all emotions did— something suspicious, watchful. They settled uncomfortably in Keiji’s stomach. A handful of pebbles filling his guts, his lungs. Hot air in his diaphragm, smoke in his throat. 

His roommate wasn’t making any moves to leave. Wasn’t even pretending to. He just stood there, above him, waiting for an answer that wasn’t going to come. 

It pissed Keiji off, a little. 

Keiji was too polite to sigh as loudly as he wanted to. By the sudden hot spike in Kuroo’s cool tide, the other caught his disdain anyway. He heavily splayed back on the grass, too annoyed to care anymore that he was cold and wet. He was going to end up shivering the whole way home by that point regardless. 

With Kuroo alone, his hunger remained but his stomach protested. It made him feel near-violent to have food in his hands and yet out of reach. 

“I get nauseous if I try to eat around other people,” he blurted out. It wasn’t exactly a lie. It wasn’t always so difficult to eat in company–– one person, two people–– most people would just focus on their food rather than thoughts or feelings. It wasn’t hard to block that out. Eating with his mother hadn’t been an issue for him, though maybe he shouldn’t count other empaths. Keiji hadn’t been lucky enough to forge the same kind of adjacent circle like his mother had, not yet, but he was confident in knowing that any he met would be exceedingly careful to keep their reverberating mind within the borders of themselves. 

(They didn’t exactly have much of a choice. For all of telepathy or empathy or those with true sight were considered “enhanced” humans, their abilities were more invasive than anything. Keiji could remember many times when he first Woke when his mother was unable to even sit with him. Not until he could quiet himself.) 

Shuffling grass and near-silent footsteps. Keiji pressed his arm over his face in place of having to see the other watching him. The churning in his stomach settled somewhat, jaw tightening in phantom tension. 

Kuroo sat beside him. “Is it anxiety?” He asked. “Kenma— my childhood friend, he was our roommate before you— he barely ate, and would get too nervous to even try if he was around a lot of people. If it’s like that, then...” 

_ I wonder what Kenma is. _ Keiji reluctantly let his arm flop away. “Yeah,” he mumbled tonelessly. It was a decent excuse. One that wasn’t even entirely untrue, one he hadn’t even had to suggest himself. Half-lies were the best to spin. The sturdiest. The ones he could build off of and layer in a protective coat of real sentiment and misplaced honesty. He barely knew Kuroo. They had only  _ just _ begun to share a space. “Something like that.”

A long moment. Keiji could feel the pins and needles of Kuroo’s stare. It stabbed into his face, burning into the left side of his head. He kept his expression stone-still. Impassive and empty. The gaze remained; Keiji’s stomach twisted with secondary misgivings. Or maybe concern. Or maybe suspicion. There wasn’t any way to tell, without touching him. Not with someone still virtually a stranger, at least...

...Though, Keiji was starting to think he wouldn’t ever understand either of his roommates. Human or not human, they were such emotional amalgamations he couldn’t...

A quiet ripping noise. Keiji jumped a little, tilting his head back. Kuroo ripped up another handful of grass. Despite the clumsy, rough motion, a careful flick of his claws kept all the roots intact. Half a mindless motion. “I get it, if it’s like that.” Kuroo spoke lowly, almost too quietly for Keiji to hear. He had to strain to even try to see the other’s face in the dark, unable to glean anything substantial from the weird, near dizzying internal whirlwind coming off of him. “But you should be able to eat at the apartment. It’s yours now too. It’s not fair to you, if you’re forced out here at weird hours just to be able to stomach some convenience store food.” 

He looked up from his hands. Gleaming, bright eyes, reflecting the moonlight so starkly Keiji winced. Kuroo didn’t miss it. He didn’t seem to be missing anything. The pins and needles were almost painful, expanded tenfold. Aching hot and cold everywhere. His pupils were huge and all-consuming. “Is this why you were— like  _ that _ when you made breakfast that first day?” He asked. “Is that why you always skip breakfast, and never make lunch, and always say you bought take out on the way home even though you never smell like food— Keiji, that’s— you shouldn’t be okay with that.”

_ You think I don’t know that? _

Anger welled up in his stomach, mixing nauseously with the greasy food in him. “I shouldn’t have to.” Keiji admitted, swallowing. There was a sudden lump in his throat. Heat and pressure burned behind his eyes, fast and wet and humiliating, and he knew all of it was him and him alone. “I really shouldn’t.” 

_ You should know we don’t always get a choice.  _

In due time, he would adjust. In due time with enough exposure, Keiji knew his empathy would register Bokuto and Kuroo’s emotional signatures to be connected to his own. An extension of himself. Background noise, instead of a full choir in the living room. A low hum over a metal concert. 

_ It’ll get better.  _

“Will it?” Kuroo challenged, and Keiji started. 

“I didn’t mean to say that.” 

Kuroo didn’t stop watching him. Keiji was starting to realize he never would. “That’s not comforting.”

Pins and needles, pins and needles. Cold weather and hot water. Teeth tucked around his Adam’s apple and handprint bruises on his wrists— 

Keiji sat up. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he snapped. 

_ Cold, cold, cold. _ His shirt was freezing and wet and stuck to his back like a second skin. He couldn’t stop shivering. The dirt dug under his nails when he pressed his fingers into the grass. “There’s nothing I can do but wait. There’s nothing I can do but  _ hope _ things get better, and  _ hope _ nothing goes wrong. That’s all I have. That’s all I’ve  _ ever _ had. It doesn’t affect you whether or not I eat in the apartment in the first place. We are just roommates. Not friends, not family. Frankly, it isn’t your business how I choose to handle my own shortcomings, and I do not confront  _ you _ over yours with unsolicited opinions, so  _ could we drop this?” _

He dropped off into silence, breathing harder than he thought he would. His lungs felt deflated and thin. Every breath was rasping. Rough, hoarse, as if he had been sick for centuries. 

Kuroo stared at him, not a twitch out of place. Keiji didn’t even want to try and find out what was writhing inside of him. His own feelings already ate away at his insides, twisting and ugly and screaming. There was no space for more. The sun was beginning to rise around them, the world was near all asleep. There was a semblance of silence. 

It would have been peaceful if Keiji weren’t war-torn all by himself. 

“I’d like to be friends,” Kuroo finally said. 

Keiji blinked. The roar settled into a hiss. “What?” 

“I’d like to be friends.” The pins and needles faded, just a little. But Kuroo’s eyes were unarguably on him, focused on his face. The lack of feeling  _ watched _ , at least in the same way, almost made Keiji sway, dizzy with the dissonance. “Bokuto does too. We  _ want _ to get to know you. We want you here. We wouldn’t have asked you to room with us otherwise.”

Keiji was still struck dumb. He stared at Kuroo, looking him up and down uselessly. It didn’t help him figure out what made Kuroo’s feelings change. “I don’t...” 

Ripping. Grass scattered, wet and glistening on Kuroo’s lap. They glittered in the rising sunlight. His palms were stained green. “It’s not just about us, or what we want, either,” he continued. Fast, as if not wanting to let Keiji get a lick in. But Keiji’s anger was fast-fading into something sick and humiliated. He could do nothing but stare regardless. “You shouldn’t have to go out of your way to not eat at the place you should feel safe in. You’re paying rent and stuff, you know? You’re as entitled to that space as we are, it’s not fair for you to have to do... this. I know that you know that, and you’re just doing what you believe is the best you can— but goddammit, Akaashi, you’re not alone you know? You live with a werewolf and a vampire, we’ve got weird hours. We could work something out so that we’re both out and you can get some alone time to stuff your face or whatever.”

“That’s–– not convenient,” Keiji protested. 

He couldn’t help but stare, wide-eyed, as Kuroo shrugged. “You don’t exist to be convenient,” He countered. 

_ I wasn’t–– that’s not–– _ “No,” Keiji bit out, more bewildered than cold, “you can’t just brush it off. That’s unfair to Bokuto-san and yourself. My problems shouldn’t end up kicking you out of your own apartment.” 

_ “Our _ apartment.”

_ “Our _ apartment,” He cut in, “That we  _ share––  _ and you said it yourself–– one we need equal access to. I’m not doing that. It doesn't matter anyway, I’ll be better–– Do not make that face. It  _ will _ get better. With time.” Kuroo continued to eye him incredulously. Keiji shoved his secondary misgivings away, struggling to keep Kuroo’s feelings from reducing his confidence. “It  _ will _ .” 

_ It has to. If it doesn’t, then I’ll just have to… _

Keiji turned away. “Look,” he said quietly. “I appreciate that you’re trying to help, but I don’t want you to. I am not  _ asking _ you to. You should go back to the apartment, I’ll be fine here for a little longer.” 

His stomach growled. His stomach churned. The half-eaten onigiri left on top of his groceries looked cold and unappealing. 

Kuroo’s hand settled in the grass, scant inches from his own. Keiji jerked his head up and was immediately pinned by his roommate’s bright eyes, the pins and needles buzzing back to life across his face. “Do you need me to leave to be able to eat?” He asked. 

Keiji blinked, taken aback. “I—“ Alone, Kuroo was… fine, mostly. In the empty park, in the darkness of night and the cold and the quiet... his emotions pressed uncomfortably, but not painfully. Even how he affected Keiji now was just a sliver less sickening than it had felt merely a day ago. Pins and needles, stones in his stomach; but Keiji was not bleeding or bruised. “—No. No, not really.” 

A nod. “Then I’ll stay. We can walk back together before dawn.”

_ Don’t you have class? _ Keiji wanted to ask.  _ Why are you still here? _ He watched Kuroo for a long moment, straining to make out his features in the dark. His emotions were unremarkable. Frustratingly solid, steady. The ease and resolve of a firm grip, of solid ground underfoot. Nothing budged or shifted even as Keiji looked for cracks. Kuroo sat back on his palms as if unaware of Keiji’s staring, uncaring of the water no doubt soaking him too. 

_ (If they can make an effort.) _

“...I have some extra onigiri if you want one,” Keiji offered. Kuroo wouldn’t actually gain anything from it. It wasn’t blood. Wasn’t the actual nutrients he needed. But it was all Keiji had on him, besides his discarded bags of vegetables and half-thawed chicken. It was all he had. 

“Yeah,” Kuroo said and gestured vaguely for Keiji to toss him one. “I’m cool with that.”

The brief connection, when Keiji delicately leaned over to hand him his food instead of throwing it, tasted like a mouthful of pop rocks and a breath of cold air. 

It still fizzled long after they broke away, eating in peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while!!!! i have no excuse. 
> 
> things pick up a little next chapter ;) 
> 
> As always, find me at [Leviathiane](https://leviathiane.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


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